


A wizard, maybe

by adrift_me



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship, Gen, Langdon a special boy, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Squibs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 01:23:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17633399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrift_me/pseuds/adrift_me
Summary: When he was a little boy, fire danced for him and books floated in his hands. But when he wanted them to - they never did. His father would not understand, nor would his brother.So what does Langdon Shaw do when he gets a chance to meet Tina Goldstein and learn about his true nature?





	A wizard, maybe

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi hi everyone, been a while since I posted something FBAWTFT related. I had this idea about Langdon being of magical heritage and it hasn't left me ever since, I think I'd like to write more about it!
> 
> This is also my contribution to the FBAWTFT calendar! Please definitely sign up to write for it, it's super fun :)
> 
> You can find me on my main [tumblr](http://accio-toffy.tumblr.com).

Miss Tina Goldstein, the new head of security, doesn’t have much free time, not after Grindelwald has been taken into custody and a full on investigation into Graves’ disappearance has been launched. But after receiving multiple letters from an anonymous source, begging her to meet at a cafe down the street from the Ministry, she caves in. They are all vague and at times indecipherable, as if the person sending them is trying to be quiet. Could be ravings of a lunatic, but could also be useful, for example, information about Graves.

Tina walks into the small cafe and finds a quiet corner, ordering a coffee and a sweet caramel bun. She looks around, pouring cream sauce onto the bun over and over with her spoon, forgetting that she is supposed to eat it, too consumed with thoughts.

A sudden noise of someone slumping into the sceat makes her bolt, and she stares at the man sitting across her.

He is a stranger, a young man, dressed finely but modestly. There is something slightly feverish in his eyes, as if he is trying to look right into Tina’s soul.

And so very obviously no-mage.

Tina pulls herself up a little, guarded.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Langdon,” he says, clearing his throat and looking around. “Langdon Shaw.”

“I think I’ve heard about you,” she says, furrowing brows, but he swallows dryly and shakes his head.

“I think you may have heard about my father or elder brother… they carry more weight to the family name than I do. At least, they used to. Not after my brother’s… passing.”

“My condolences,” Tina gulps, remembering exactly who this young man means. “And what do you want from me, Mr Shaw?” 

She asks quietly, half of mind to prepare a spell to either wipe the man’s memory or defend herself, but Langdon does not give her a reason. He sighs and nervously tugs on the tablecloth, looking down at the coffee stains and sugar crumbles.

“I cannot resurrect your brother, if this is what you are after.”

“It’s not!” he says abruptly, looking up at her and then looking away in embarrassment. “Sorry. I miss him, I think, but it’s not what I’m here for.”

“What is it then?”

“Miss Goldstein, I need you help. I think I might be a wizard.”

Tina makes a tiny dry laugh and moves back in her seat. Instead of a guarded expression, her face smoothes to compassion. She has heard of this many times before, the no-mage folks seeking miracles where they could find none. They hear about magic by some chance and latch onto the idea of joining that world. That’s why laws exist, Tina thinks.

But she did let Jacob in, didn’t she?

“Very well, Mr Shaw,” Tina says softly, pushing a fork into her caramel bun. “Why don’t you get yourself something to eat and we discuss what you have in mind.”

He gives her a half-hearted smile and hurries to make an order, while Tina contemplates how soon she will be asked to step down as the Director after this. Langdon returns and a moment after a waitress brings his coffee. As she walks away, Langdon grabs the sugar.

“Miss Goldstein-”

“Tina. You can call me Tina,” she interrupts Langdon when he finally stops fumbling with his coffee, pouring too much sugar in it. He smiles at the friendliness and goes on.

“You can call me Langdon then. Tina, I don’t quite know where to begin. It all started when…”

***

He is five years old and putting together a puzzle on the floor. His father is sitting in an armchair with a newspaper while his mother chirps about little Langdon being so very promising, a special child for having been born in the year 1900. His brother Henry is studying books and paying little attention to his family but his father, who he occasionally drops a solemn word to about the breakthroughs in history. Henry likes big words, but, unlike other boys, Langdon barely understands them.

“Unlike other boys” is a proper description of everything Langdon’s life. Unlike other boys, he never went to school. He never had friends. He never earned the love of his father and brother. And unlike other boys, Langdon could do things that defied all evidence of a simple, real world.

About that age he notices that often something is wrong with the fire. He knows he saw it dance and watched its flames draw pictures in the air and even make coals turn to faces sometimes. He would point at the fire and call for his mother to see what is wrong. But of course, there would be nothing to be found.

“Impossible child!” the mother changes her tune immediately at the behest of Henry Senior and ushers Langdon to his room, promising to deprive him of dinner if he makes up any more stories. After one or two more occurrences like this, when hunger made him ache for fresh bread and gravy and meat, he would learn that it’s best to hide his odd visions.

***

Tina reclines in her seat, half of the caramel bun gone and a second cup of coffee brought for her and Langdon. 

“Someone must have been trying to contact you or your family then, or those were pranksters, getting into a wrong fireplace. It is a great luck that no one traveled through your fireplace or you would have had a living room full of ashes. Very messy, if you ask me,” Tina says with a tiny smile, looking at Langdon’s eyes widening almost childishly. He reacts almost like Jacob when she speaks about magic so casually. Tina thinks she could not only get used to that, but even get addicted. “But please, go on.”

***

He is barely ten when things happen again. It is not really his fault that books he wants to read float into his hands from the top shelves, but no one would listen. Father is furious with him and his mother screams that it is one of his plots to upset his parents again. No matter how much Langdon swears that it simply happens, they would not listen. Henry Junior, too, would make sure that he tells his father about every time it happens. Langdon cries out that it is by pure magic, causing his family’s outrage.

“There is no such thing as magic,” his father grits through hi teeth before leaving Langdon in the room all alone yet again. It is then that Langdon turns to stories, because he would not turn them away when they so eagerly float in his hands. He spends a lot of time reading old newspapers and history books and fiction, noting every time something odd happened and thinking if he could one day end up on the page of a newspaper for that very reason.

***

Langdon swirls coffee with a spoon and looks up at Tina, who has long pulled off her coat and hat, warming in the cozy cafe, full of delicious smells.

“Tell me, Langdon, have you tried doing it yourself? Pulling the books in your hands?”

“I have,” he replies hesitantly, his cheeks tinting red. “It never worked.”

“How odd,” Tina replies thoughtfully. “Please, continue then.”

***

Because of all that, Langdon’s father is cautious about sending Langdon off to school at an older age and he remains home, tutored by a nasty old hag who took the opportunity to sweeten her way in his father’s connections and leave but a month later to tutor a much more promising child in a different family at Henry Senior’s behest. Langdon is quietly happy, he didn’t like her anyway. But then, she must have disliked the strange mischievous aura around Langdon, even if he never sought to do any mischief himself.

He is fifteen, and his brother comes back home from an academy, ever so solemn and important, ready to pursue a career in politics. He finds faults in everything Langdon does and laments about his mother’s death, blaming it on Langdon’s misbehaviour. It is not his fault that sometimes things happen and he knows it has to be magic, for what other reason could it be? He knows he saw people appear from thin air in the streets and that when he passed by the bank building, something strange was around, as if a force preventing him from passing by. He knows it, but no one believes him.

***

“--and now we have to rethink our security! I’m sorry, do go on.”

***

Liar. Fabler. A child, they call him as he is heading into his twenties, chasing mysteries for the newspaper and in hopes to be his father’s son. Moreover, to find proof of what has been haunting him all his life. Sometimes things still happen. He just can’t reach out, he simply can’t as if they are not meant for him and he was allowed a glimpse of a forbidden fruit.

So when he is 26 and New York is bursting in explosions of odd magic and people of all oddities keep appearing, he knows. And he barely mourns his brother’s passing and can’t help being in awe of found proof.

Somehow suddenly that very proof loses necessity. He saw it, he knows. And when it’s all over, he remembers what others seem to be unable to. The explosions of buildings, the magic and fire in the sky, the silvery shield to hide away the heat of battle. He remembers it all. Remembers his brother’s death when even his father doesn’t.

***

“You do?” Tina asks, perplexed.

“Yeah…” Langdon sighs and stares at his third coffee cup. His eyes are sad, distant. “One day I realised everyone stopped talking about what happened. I knew it had to do with all the strange things I’ve been experiencing, but there was no one I could ask. It’s my luck that I saw you by the bank building, appearing there nearly every day as I went to work. I’m… sorry I had to stalk you. But glad, that I got my chance to talk.”

Tina doesn’t say anything. The story is sad, and she heard it before, she saw it, even, just a few weeks ago when Credence Barebone unleashed power of such strength that led to many developments, deaths, destruction. And freedom, in some way.

But she knows what Langdon is. And that makes the decision even harder.

“You are a squib, Langdon.”

“What?”

“A squib,” she repeats quietly. “You have magic. But… you can’t tap into it. You never will. That’s why you could never really do anything consciously, but magic still tried to find its way to you.”

Langdon’s eyes widen and he laughs, laughs in great relief and with taste, laughs as if massive weight has been removed from his shoulders. 

“But this is! This! I have no words!” he exclaims, swirling his coffee faster, hitting the spoon loudly on the edges of the cup. Tina smiles nervously, waiting for his excitement to wind down. “I knew it. All of it… it makes sense.”

“Langdon, I’m sorry, I don’t think it is as exciting as you think. When we have squibs in our society, there are mostly two options - have your memory about magic blocked and pushed back into the no-mage society or join us, but you have to be always near magic that you can never tame. It’s not easy.”

“I can do it! Please,” Langdon sits up upright at the very idea of being in their world, in the magic world. “I don’t ask for much.”

Tina stares in his eyes and there is such longing, such need for this. It is selfish, yes, but it is desperate, an escape, a need for freedom just like Credence needed. Tina sighs. There will be consequences, but she can’t not do it.

With a quick hand she scribbles an address on a note.

“Come find me here at 7 in the evening. Please, be cautious and make sure no one sees you. This is my address. I want to introduce you to someone, much like you.”

When Langdon will look up, he won’t see Tina. Only an empty seat and a coffee mug and a dirty plate with specks of caramel cream. But inside he will have hope. And what he doesn’t know yet, he will have a meeting with people who care.

And Jacob might like to have a friend to share his magical excitement with.

  
  
  



End file.
